#major projecting here

[heartorbit]

back to our yuri programming

[proxentauri]

still thinking about heat abnormal

[roachs-pet-roach]

okay so i js had a thought while fighting w/ my hair to look presentable:

Roach has weird hair. It’s too straight to be considered curly but too curly to be considered straight.

He treats it as curly hair (putting the curly hair shit in it and such) b/c if he doesn’t it gets frizzy (it gets frizzy anyways but its worse)

but he HATES it. he can never get it to look good and it’s impossible to figure out what the hell to do with it most days. Bedhead is the worst for him

Ghost and Soap love it. It’s fluffy. Ghost loves to gently run his fingers through it while Soap likes to mess it up more.

Roach can’t stand when they call it cute but at the same time he likes it. He’s very conflicted on his hair.

[curlytsunamiart]

ASH SEEKS FIRE, my ds3 blind playthrough sketchbook-journal, is now available to download! 50+ pages of drawings, comics, gameplay notes, story interpretations, and in-game perspective of my ashen one, all for free☝️‼️ i hope you enjoy it!

[kiisuuumii]

@kiisuuumii (two of wands)

[ashenquill]

Assorted conversations from the Batfam group chat, in no particular order:

Tim: I discovered the key to the fourth dimension

Steph: the fuck

Dick: Tim, have you slept recently?

Tim: No. But I have been awaken, not by daylight, but by the ear splitting shriek of the universe as the stars are blotted out, leaving us to our fate on this cold and inhospitable planet. Are you ready for this reckoning? For the end of all you could ever know?

Steph: 🪕

Steph: ^certified banjo moment

Duke: 🪕certified banjo moment 🪕

Tim: 🪕 🪕 🪕

Jason: IM TRYING TO SLEEP ASSHOLES

————

Jason: my life is a tragedy. Not a Greek tragedy, because I’m not Greek. A Mexican tragedy.

————

Tim: have you ever seen Shakira and Shakespeare in the same room?

Jason: STOP DESECRATING EVERYTHING I LOVE

Duke: 💃 Shake-speara Shake-speara 💃

————

Tim, sick of his stockholders’ shit, ready to start throwing fists if he has to sit through one more board meeting: what if I blew up my entire company

Jason: Based?

Dick: Put down the dynamite and drink water/eat food/rest

Tim: wildly different responses. Thank you

————

Duke: sometimes I Kolbe, sometimes I helicopter

————

Steph, suffering from blood loss, a concussion, and 37 hours of no sleep:

Steph: time

Steph: TIMMM

Steph: update

Steph: I’m going pire 😭😭😭😭

Steph: met payechey was only 200 Donald’s

Steph: shot

Steph: that’s not how’s you spell it

Steph: my paycheck was only 2200 dollars

Steph: 200*

Tim: are you okay?

Steph: just peachy

————

Tim: this is why I didn’t have birth siblings

Jason: said with the confidence of someone who had literally any say in that decision at all

————

Steph: [image of a Minecraft chat log]

[Transcription:

<PurplePplEatr> cook those too

<redrobinYUMM> I’m a 50s housewife

<PurplePplEatr> in the flesh

<redrobinYUMM> I’ve got your lunch sweetie

<PurplePplEatr> im at work bitch wife

<redrobinYUMM> I wish you could roast carrots

<redrobinYUMM> give me a proper cooking sim, Minecraft

<redrobinYUMM> cowards

<PurplePplEatr> zanahoria more like zanaWHOREia

<PurplePplEatr> boom roasted

<redrobinYUMM> *sobs*

<PurplePplEatr> ugh youre such a typical woman

<PurplePplEatr> rah rah misogyny ]

Steph: some weird-ass rp in the Minecraft chat

————

Steph: I’m a trendsetter

Damian: Brown, you learned about that from me.

Steph: I’m a ✨trendsetter✨

[autumnally-art]

a quick nap (context)

[ichikalvr]

"i thought we'd be together forever, but..."

WAAAAHHHHHH MIDDLE SCHOOL ICHIII ToT

[chiricat]

some more sketchy p5r vbs thoughts 🎭🔥

[pigeonwit]

David felt too much.

He had his whole life. He had always been called a ‘sensitive child’; if anyone changed their tone at him or raised their voice ever so slightly, he’d burst into tears, begging them not to be angry with him or asking if they were disappointed. As he grew, he learned that that wasn’t allowed anymore (the mocking from Oscar and Morris in middle school saw to that), and so, David learned to camouflage himself. If someone rolled their eyes at him, or if his joke didn’t land, he’d take the pain he felt and shove it deep, deep down in his stomach, wait for the storm of ‘they hate you they hate you just shut up why are you like this no one wants you SHUT UP’ in his head to calm, and then wait until he was safe in the nearest bathroom stall to hyperventilate into his sleeve. He’d always talk himself down eventually, once all the feelings had leaked out, leaving burning trails on his face and bruises in his chest. And then, he would feel blissfully numb. Tired and deflated and wonderfully empty, for the rest of the day. Everything would blur into the background, leaving him in a peaceful fuzzy euphoria, until he got back to his room and collapsed into his bed, and let the world around him fade away.

As he grew older, though, it was harder to disappear. The house grew louder, and more invasive. His mother would loudly crash around in the kitchen or the laundry room or wherever, desperately searching for some chore she could distract herself with. Les would whine that he was bored, or that he needed help with his homework, or that he was hungry, until David forced himself out of bed to satisfy him. His sister would yell at Les to get out of her room, yell at their mother that she was being unfair, yell at David for doing nothing but hide in his room all day instead of helping the rest of them. Their father never got yelled at, though. Not when he’d shuffle into their rooms without knocking to call them for dinner, not when he shuffled and groaned almost constantly as he tried to find a comfortable position on his new bed on the couch, not when he always looked so bored no matter what was happening, no matter how badly David wanted to scream at him to shut up, stop it, do something, no one ever yelled at their father. And it hurt. It hurt, and ached, and stung, and David felt, felt, felt with nowhere and no way for him to let it out.

The first time he ever spoke to Albert DaSilva, he was sixteen. He’d made it through middle school and almost through high school without ever having to cross the boy’s path, but he supposed that luck ran out over time. David had been trembling, the ten dollars of carefully counted change burning against his palm, and he distinctly remembered shoving his hand out and asking for ‘one weed, please’ with the world’s most perfectly timed voice-crack. Albert had laughed so hard he wound up letting David take the bag for five. David tried to think of it as an act of generosity rather than pity.

David wouldn’t call himself a pothead. He definitely wouldn’t say he was addicted. Technically, he would always remind himself, you couldn’t get addicted to weed. He knew it was a stupid argument – it didn’t matter if something was addictive or not, anyone could get addicted to anything. Still, it made him feel a little less anxious about smoking it, those rare occasions when his feelings were just too much for him and he didn’t have any other way of getting rid of them.

Today is one of those occasions.

David yells a half-hearted ‘going to Albert’s’ into the chaos of the Jacobs’ household, and swings the door closed before anyone can respond – not that anyone ever did. He doubts that they mind, really; he knows it annoys them when he leaves at random points of the day, since that meant one less pair of hands to do chores and deal with their father’s episodes, but he knows they’re also grateful to have one less person to snap at. The winter wind hits him like a thousand tiny needles piercing his face, and David grimaces, pulling his scarf over his mouth. Just a few minutes, he swears to himself. Just a few minutes, and he wouldn’t feel anything at all.

The path into the woods is beaten and muddy, and the number of weeds and bracken coating its edges makes it almost indistinguishable from the forest floor. But for those gifted few, the hikers and the dog walkers and the emotionally stunted teenagers who needed some place quiet to get high, walking the path was as easy as breathing. It wound and twisted its way around the gnarled trees, over the knolls and through the overgrowth, until you found yourself walking along a ledge of ferns and shrubbery. David had it down to a perfect art – he would identify the wild cherry sapling poking its way out of the shrubbery, walk exactly seven paces, find the tiny hollow where some animal had wriggled its way through the shrubbery (David assumes it was a fox, given the tracks and the strands of fur in the brambles), and manage to shove his way between them until he was through the wall of shrubbery and on the bank of a small stream. From there, David would perch himself on a rock, roll his joint, take a drag, and lose himself in the sound of sweet, sweet nothingness.

David groans in relief as the stress begins to seep out of his body; a loud, obnoxious sound that he makes purely for the sake of making it. For being loud without having to worry about someone yelling at him to shut up. The phenomenon of inconsequentiality is a rare one, and David relishes it. He stretches out on his rock and bathes in the silence for no one knows how long. Who’s keeping track? The birds certainly aren’t judging him.

His joint burns down, bit by bit – he blows smoke rings and smiles dopily as they melted away on the wind. He toes the water, splashing at it rhythmically, and then bursts into a giggling fit. Singing water. Babbling brook. Babble was a fun word. Babble. Babblabblabble.

God, his mother would throw a fit if she could see him here.

David giggles again.

[headfullof-ideas]

At long last, the next gen Pirate kiddo reveals are done! It took wayyyy too long, but they’re done! Now to work on all the other projects I have

In order of oldest to youngest, like the Nekton kiddos

[bardnuts]

Hey.

If you saw a book advertised as a "madcap dark fantasy"

would you dig that vibe

Listen, I need to figure out a way to write full-time or I'm gonna die. Trying to distill my Whole Thing down into a few words.

If you like Sound & Fury and want to see more of that Whole Schtick but not as fanfiction, then please--and I cannot stress this enough--tell me

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

I hate to break it to Republicans but at this point most of the so called "DEI hires" in workplaces are white men who don't have the skills, certificates, degrees, and/or experience for the job and only got their positions because a friend of a friend got them hired. Like women, non-white people, queer people, disabled people, and many others all know they'd be first on the chopping block at their job which is why they are usually the ones most qualified, and even overqualified, in their workplace. They're the ones with the degrees, years of experience, tons of skills, and who meet or exceed expectations at their job. They're the ones who work their asses off and keep the place running. And when it comes to cutting people, managers and administrators only care about who can keep the lights on and the numbers high. So Bradley, who only got the job because a family member convinced the manager to hire him even though he was not qualified at all, and he's doing the bare minimum every month, and he sucks to work with, is getting cut first. Simple as that.

[altschmerzes]

hate when i see a post and i just Know it’s gonna majorly prevent me from writing anything for like. a solid week.

[ghastigiggles]

a test of endurance

i got an ask that inspired me and went a little insane. So more Furina content! this is actually a little more of a personal piece too (haha put too much of my experience in the fic, whhhhhoops) but i hope its something other people can also indentify with!

no explicit ships but my bias is... visible.

obligatory disclaimer; this is a sfw tickle fic meant to be consumed by all ages, nothing nsfw is intended or implied o7 - also, more heavy Fontaine 4.2 spoilers, would reccomend having completed the Archon Quests up to the end of 4.2 & potentially Furina's personal quest before reading.

It was the 40th year into her godhood when the concept was introduced to her for the first time.

It was around 10:14 in the morning. She had finished her cake, and stood before her usual mirror as the tailor came in. While most of her wardrobe had been premade designs up to this point, the Archon wanted – and deserved, of course – the latest in fashion, tailor-made to her tastes. Hence the commission. 

“You’re early,” She’d chirped brightly. And the woman, chuckling, nodded, giving an awkward little bow around the massive bag she carried.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to risk being late for our esteemed Lady of Justice!”

“Very good! Early is on time, as they say! I actually value punctuality quite a bit, you know.”

“Then I am glad to be of full service to my Archon. Shall we?”

With all other staff quickly shooed from the room, Furina stripped down to her base layer – a simple undershirt and underwear – and stood more than a little awkwardly before the mirror, very suddenly hesitant to have another person see the closest thing to her truest self. She cast the tailor a look, smiling nervously.

“... Ahh… Are you quite sure we couldn’t have done this with the clothes on?”

“Please, Lady Furina, be at ease! We’re just taking measurements – wouldn’t be able to do that accurately with all the layers in the way. I promise not to judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No – no, not at all! Forgive me, I’m just… Unused to this, is all.”

She watched in the mirror as the tailor procured a measuring tape from her oversized bag of wonders, approaching her from behind and offering a comforting pat on the shoulder and smile.

“I understand. It can’t be too often that a mortal personally measures an Archon! Just relax – it shouldn’t take long at all. Hold your arms out like this, would you?”

Furina mimicked her T-pose, staring at herself incredulously in the mirror, and the tailor chuckled at her expression, starting with measuring her height. And, to her credit, Furina found herself at ease as the woman made small talk about a recent court case they’d both sat in on.

It went south when the measuring tape was wrapped around her waist, and the tailor pressed her thumb a little too sharply into Furina’s side, sending an utter jolt up through her entire body that caused her arms to fly down and undignified squawk to leave her lips.

“Ah… My apologies, Lady Furina, did I hurt you?”

“N-no! I don’t… Think so?” The sensation certainly hadn’t been pain, but it wasn’t necessarily pleasurable, either – so… “What… Was that?”

She slowly lifted her arms, and the tailor tilted her head. She seemed to weigh something in her mind before giving the Archon’s side another experimental pinch, making her fold slightly with yet another jarring noise.

“Aie! S - stop that!”

“I see… Please forgive me, Lady Furina, I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

11:04, in the springtime of her 40th year. The first time the word hit her ears. The first time it made her gut fizzle and her face heat up, puzzling her to no end.

“... Ticklish? What… What is that?” 

“Oh, I suppose it would be foreign to an Archon, huh…” The tailor blinked, then laughed softly, pulling her hands back so that Furina could relax; “It’s described as a sensation between pleasure and pain. Usually, people use it as a bonding method when they’re rough-housing. Most people dislike it, though.”

“... Oh.”

That… Really explained very little, if she was honest, but she felt embarrassed enough without reopening that can of worms. Besides, she was much more preoccupied with the tailor lifting her measuring tape to pick up where they left off. Just the possibility made her reflexively clamp her arms down again, her face burning, and the tailor laughed.

“Rest assured, Lady Furina, I’ll be more careful this time! It won’t happen again.”

“R-right… On with it, then…”

She managed to pull her arms back up again, and though she flinched preemptively as the tape went around her waist, the expected sensation never came, and the rest of their business went on as normal.

Yet, as the door closed behind the tailor, Furina grappled with a sense of disappointment and confusion, glancing back at herself in the mirror for an answer that didn’t come.

-

It was 2:45 pm on her 234th year. She was in the secret study, books scattered around her, and her nose buried in a dictionary, of all things.

It was possible, perhaps, that a solution could be found even in such an unlikely place. Desperation and futility drove her to search in odder and odder forms for even a sliver of hope – though, admittedly, by now she’d allowed herself to get distracted learning several words she’d never heard before, saying them out loud to herself and trying to find ways to work them into everyday vocabulary.

And that was when she flipped the page and saw it.

tickle verb tick·​le ˈti-kəl  tickled; tickling ˈti-k(ə-)liŋ  1: to touch (a body part, a person, etc.) lightly so as to excite the surface nerves and cause uneasiness, laughter, or spasmodic movements 2: to excite or stir up agreeably; to provoke to laughter or merriment  they were tickled by the clown's antics. 3: to touch or stir gently a pianist tickling the ivories.

Of course, all variations of the word were there, and Furina felt her heart stop for a solid moment, fixated on the page. She didn’t quite understand why even reading the definition of the word made her stomach do flustering, wanting flips, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

The blood rushing in her ears must’ve deafened her, too, because she didn’t notice her assistant in the room until he hesitantly tapped her shoulder, making her jump and slam the book shut, her face flushed and burning with embarrassment as she whipped to face him.

“What?! What! Have you forgotten how to knock?!”

“I-I did, Lady Furina, multiple times! I spoke your name, too, but to no response! Forgive me for startling you, it was not my intention!”

She released a soft breath at the man’s terrified and apologetic look, pausing to rub her temples and gather her wits.

“I… See. I apologize for snapping at you. Any updates?”

“N-no, Lady Furina. I just came to tell you that the teams are turning in for the day. The search was fruitless again.”

“Understood. Thank you for keeping me in the loop.”

The man gave a terse nod, and Furina watched him go for a moment before speaking up again, making him freeze.

“By the by… How much did you see?”

“... I saw nothing, Lady Furina.”

“Good. You’re dismissed!”

His shoulders slumped with relief, and he hurried out of the room. Furina waited until she heard the door close down the hall before she slumped down herself, with defeat and exhaustion rather than relief.

She really had to get the idea out of her head.

–

It was 5:45 in the evening, in the winter of her 300th year exactly, when she weighed her options.

Sitting on Neuvilette’s desk, today, she flipped through old case files with him, hardly focused on the words on the page – she knew the damned things by heart at this point, anyway, and she was sure he did too. This was all routine, and all they were really supposed to do was look at the dates and decide which cases could he safely archived and vaulted, and which should stay accessible. Yet, it had been a fun trip down memory lane for the both of them, recalling absurdities and tragedies during the court cases that brought them nostalgia.

The Iudex was the closest thing Furina had to a friend, in her opinion. He was a rock that she could cling to, for better or worse, which made the lying she had to do sting so much more… She could only hope moments like this more than made up for it.

Which brought her to her current internal struggle.

The concept of tickling had been weighing on her mind again. More than once, when these moods struck her, she had tried tickling herself, using makeup brushes and fallen feathers from various accessories to scratch the itch, as it were – yet, if anything, she only grew itchier.

She had profited, relatively recently, from a one-on-one with one of her nation’s independent researchers, when they requested an audience. It just so happened that they had a little interest in the topic on a scientific level, and were more than happy to share details with their curious Archon – confirming, among many other things, that she could not do it to herself.

A pity. But a truth that now led her to her conundrum; would it be weird to get Neuvillette to do it?

Furina thought they were close. It should be fine. And yet – what if he thought less of her for being curious, or, Celestia forbid, liking it? He would never tell the people, but if he ended up disgusted, she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

Yet, on the other hand… He was always tolerant of her drama and antics, and she’d certainly known him long enough to recognize when he was hiding a smile. Maybe he’d like it, too, and they’d have something more to bond over? Or, at the very least, he’d be tolerant and understanding of it.

“Lady Furina, are you quite alright? You’ve been staring at the same page for awhile.”

His voice cut through her thoughts and made her jump, blushing lightly as she side-eyed him. He wasn’t even looking at her, flipping a page in his own file while she cleared her throat and laughed, theatrical as ever.

“But of course! I was just reminiscing on all of these cases! It is great fun to revisit them, from time to time.”

“Hmm.”

He seemed content enough with that answer. Furina stared at him for a moment, her smile falling as she returned to her quandary for the briefest of moments – and decided to commit, stretching her arms up over her head with a dramatic groan.

“Ugh, but sitting here for so long makes one so stiff!”

“You’re welcome to walk around the office to stretch your limbs for a moment, if you’d like.”

Still, Neuvillette hadn’t looked up, and she dropped her arms, swallowing a sigh. She kicked her legs for a moment, looking around for some other way to hint him towards what she wanted. Her gaze settled on the stack of closed files across the desk from her, just barely out of reach, and she smiled, snapping her current case shut and reaching across the desk before him, grunting theatrically with the effort of her stretch.

Neuvillette, finally, looked up from the page – and sighed, taking the file from Furina’s hand and adding it to the pile for her.

“If you need help, just say so.”

“Oh… Thanks…”

She drew her hand back into herself and wilted a bit, the disappointment eating at her. Neuvillette stared at her for a moment before humming, shutting his own file.

“Is… Something wrong?”

“Ah – n-no, no! Nothing at all!”

Furina forced a smile, perking herself back up stiffly, and Neuvillette tilted his head a little, his own expression carefully neutral.

“Are you sure? If there’s anything I can do, you need only ask.”

She felt heat rush to her face at the simple notion of verbalizing her request. Somehow, the idea made her throat feel tight, and the flight instinct kicked in as she hopped off the desk, shaking her head.

“No no no! There’s nothing wrong, I’m just… Hungry! Are you hungry? I’ll fetch us a cake, and we can take a break! Be right back!”

Leaving no room for Neuvillette to get a word in edgewise, she turned and hurried out the room, her cheeks hot and heart hammering.

Neuvillette, for his part, simply watched her go with a faint smile and a sigh, shaking his head. 

“One day…”

–

Why are her nails so long.

It was 1:13 pm in the early spring of her 499th year when she met with Arlecchino for their usual tea, and the first time that she had noticed the Harbinger’s – let’s face it, claws – practically pierced through her gloves. 

Furina shoveled cake into her mouth, already fuelled by nervousness, but the nails drumming against the surface of the table across from her only added new butterflies to the mix. Arlecchino prattled on about something or another, but Furina had long since stopped listening, plagued by unbidden fantasies.

For example, feeling those nails scratching ruthlessly at her underarms. Or having her blouse unbuttoned so that they could trace the expanse of her stomach uninhibited. Or having her leg be seized and the back of her knee tormented by the spidering claws. Or –

“ – Don’t you think so, Lady Furina?”

“... Huh?”

She blinked, her face flushing as she realized she hadn’t been listening at all. Arlecchino sighed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Honestly, you’re more distracted than usual, today. What are you so hung up on?”

“A-aaahhh, nothing! Nothing at all,” She giggled nervously, trying and failing to recover from the blunder; “I’m just… Still excited! For the magic show tonight!”

“Ah… Well, it does give me heart to hear that my children have the Archon’s attention. I hope their wellbeing has her heart, too.”

Arlecchino’s motivated stare made Furina stiffen, and she offered a tight-lipped smile, nodding furtively.

“Of course, of course! The wellbeing of my people is always my priority. That being said, I think we should call it here, so I have time to get ready.”

“As you wish. It’s been a pleasure, as always.”

They shared a tense nod, and Furina stood up first, stiffly walking out of the room as Arlecchino’s nails haunted her thoughts on the way out.

I’m going to go insane.

–

“What time is it?”

“Hmm… 9:52, I think.”

“Okay… Okay.”

It was 9:52 pm in the early autumn of her 500th year when it finally, finally happened.

“You remember the rules?”

“Ugh… Yes.”

“And you remember the safewords?”

“Dendro, Geo, Pyro.”

“Good girl. Are you ready?”

In her bed, in her humble apartment, Furina was no longer an Archon, and Navia was no longer her enemy; rather, the young woman straddled her waist all-too-comfortably, keeping Furina’s body pinned to the bed. The ex-primadonna herself grasped the headboard desperately to keep herself under control, her skin already buzzing with anticipation.

“Oh my god, yes, just do it already!”

“Ask nicely…”

“Navia!”

Navia laughed, endlessly amused by how flustered and on edge Furina was, and finally lifted her hands, forming claws with her fingers. She feinted a lunge, and Furina flinched, but kept her arms up, her knuckles going white as her arms shook and she whined.

“C-come onnn, haven’t I already waited long enough?!”

“Okay, okay… You’re right.”

Sticking out her tongue, Navia lunged again – but, this time, she grasped Furina’s sides and squeezed repeatedly, and Furina practically shrieked, her arms already flying down to uselessly clamp over her assailants hands.

“Oh, you’ve already lost,” Navia tutted, anything but disappointed; “Guess that means you have to take the punishment.”

“Khheehee – you’re so meheehee – mehEHEAAN TO ME!”

Furina cackled, throwing her head back and kicking uselessly as Navia slipped her hands under her nightshirt and scribbled across her skin with her own manicured nails, giggling right along.

“I know. And you love it.”

And, of course, Navia was right; she really did.

The wait was worth it.

[the-silver-chronicles]

Kinktober Day 22 & 31: "Breeding Kink" & "Aftercare" - For OTP: "Boa Lurking In The Bliss" (Silva Omar x Faith Seed)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Breeding" and "Aftercare", you'll find it also includes ones such as "Praise", "Oral", "Biting" and a little bit of "Dirty Talk".

Hey everyone, here's my second and last contribution to Kinktober for this month. Here's a oneshot devoted to the main couple of the Far Cry section of The Silver Chronicles; Silva and Faith as you've probably guessed. From the mature tag and the title you can probably already tell that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's a few warnings as to what this oneshot contains:

CW: Shameless smut, Minor angst, Cunnilingus, slight vaginal fingering, slight teasing, stroking a dick to erection (I don't think a handjob necessarily fits the context because Faith doesn't let Silva cum), P in V sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, creampie, Silva's kind of unsubtle breeding kink and both women's obvious praise kinks. Includes a lack of contraceptives here (not the fault of either women, Kamski's flaw was that he thought Silva would be like him, miserable and single (neither words correlate nor share a connotation connection with each other here) and also doesn't take into consideration that majority of people don't think like him) and discussions of (getting) pregnancy. Plus the unspeakable horror of including the vaguest hint of a plot in a smut oneshot.

But also enthusiastic consent!

Okay now for the ONLY two Trigger Warnings: Minor reference to past religious and child abuse. These aren't the center focus of the oneshot and aren't explicit either, but these are something that are at the very least inferred (I hope that's the right word) to during Silva's POV thought process in the beginning, but not during the smut itself. I only make these warnings because it's better to be safe than sorry.

You may also notice Faith is a little different (possibly) personality-wise, and I imagine its because of being influenced by certain characters (like say... Sharky and the Drubmans (mostly Adelaide)) and this is set many months post-game and Collapse, and both she and Silva (plus Azriel) have taken shelter in Silva's prepper bunker, so I imagine at this point a certain level of character growth and change has occurred. I’ve also given a short personal explanation in the tags as well.

Author's Final Edit: I've been working on this nonstop for four weeks, at differing states in mind but refused to leave it unfinished, so apologies in advance if it's not that good or even a little rushed (as you can likely tell it's no longer October) than what I originally planned. Anyway gonna post this now and hope for the best.

I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Anyway, enjoy the fic under the cut:

Title: This Sweet Leisure

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Character/s: Silva Omar (Deputy OC), Faith Seed, Azriel Omar (mentioned OC), Irene Neon (past referenced OC), Persephone Neon (past referenced OC), Elsa Omar (past referenced OC), Kamski Neon (past referenced OC), Tracey Lader (referenced) and Father Adam Omar (Barely referenced OC and thank the Gods, he's super dead).

Words: 7,734

Quiet moments had never been something Silva thought she could afford to enjoy.

She was familiar with various forms of quiet though. Many of which denied her comfort, including peace, or even leisure.

She had experienced a cold kind of quiet throughout her youth. It was tense and foreboding, a wordless warning hanging over their heads like the ill-omen of a guillotine. The only sounds allowed were the roaring winds of a wrathful blizzard outside and the slight clinking of plates and utensils shared between two quivering hermanas.

She had spent many nights as a child in a quiet that was always too quiet. That was the worst kind of quiet for Silva. Dread left her restless, sleep evaded her like the answers she constantly prayed for, haunted by anticipation as she listened for the recognizable signs of Father's approaching footsteps outside her bedroom door...

But the most familiar quiet she's known would be that of loss and mourning. The moments where silence would replace where there should be joyous laughter, or whispered promises, or the normalcy of conversation.

Where she expected a small form to run around the house once she exited her room, her little one's delighted giggles filling the room as her ginger bangs bounced from her enthused race... she found nothing and the heaviness would weigh down on her heart once more.

She would spend periods lamenting on each and every loss, whether it be family, friends, her amor or her beloved hija.

When trapped in this quiet, her mind would betray her... always following the same maze in the labyrinth of her thoughts, with each memory visited and revisited while she punished herself for the grave inescapable sin of not being strong enough, fast enough, doing enough.

Simply put, the quiet moments remind her of how no matter what, she'll never be enough to keep those she cared for. She found no escape through sleep either; her imagination was often the most cruel.

Punished by constant night terrors, which only grew more frequent from there.

Perhaps that is why she enjoyed the action, those fast-paced minutes that squandered on hours. The wars, the fighting, the very act of survival, the violence she despised, justifying her use of it as necessary and right.

The very same violence that took pieces of her until she was nearly hollow from the high. But at least she couldn't feel anything but the emptiness afterwards... distracted from the grief.

What a twist of fate that, at the end of the very collapse of society, all she could have would be quiet moments. For approximately seven years, she would have to live in the very bunker she had dismissed as a paranoid and needless precaution, even for the likes of Silva herself.

In spite of this, she had kept it well-maintained. At least to honor one of Elsa's lasting gifts to her.

And even though Elsa and Persephone were long gone from her life, Silva would be forever grateful of it since it had saved the last two of her most precious remaining loved ones; Faith and Azriel.

It was a rough few months at first, for herself especially, but they made it work. A routine had been set up, tasks given for each of them, and both Faith and Azriel seemed to have put aside their animosity, for the sake of Silva at least.

Silva, though prohibited from putting too much strain on her muscles, had recovered enough to do the laborious tasks that the other two were unable to do, as well as keep track of their inventory, rationing the power and water they were using, keeping track of the days by making calendars (at least enough so they have a fraction of an idea of when they should leave), keeping the only functional clock left out of Azriel's reach, general cooking and proceeding with Azriel's education (and ensuring her pequeño inventora utilizes the parts they don't need for her machinations).

Usually these tasks were completed with the assistance of both Faith and Azriel.

Faith utilized the knowledge she retained from the Eden's Gate to correctly double-check and correspond with the information Silva gave, as well as support a garden from within the bunker that gave them all fresh fruit and vegetables besides the preservatives, aided Silva in Azriel's education with subjects Silva had less expertise in and was the only person in the bunker with any specialization in medicine, besides Silva's apparently redundant strategy of "ignore the problem until it starts affecting you personally" or "only treat problem when close to the nearest convenient bandage, stitches or medic".

(Silva could admit Faith had a point about her reckless behavior).

Azriel's days were mostly spent assisting Silva, or Faith when the girl chose to stop detesting the other woman. She attended her "classes", whether it be academical or practical, so she'd be as prepared as she could be for whatever was outside the bunker doors.

Azriel's hobby in engineering proved to be handy, with Silva and Faith both stumped on the workings of such a subject despite their reliance on the bunker's generator and water filter.

They'd have their meals together, and would often spend time in the same living space once their tasks were done. When it came to nightly routines, Silva would bathe Azriel herself, and would share her own shower with Faith as to not waste water.

Those moments were strictly kept tame, given Azriel's close proximity from the bedroom and the necessity of the water. However, Silva didn't mind, as she and Faith got to be closer, with hands touching the places neither wanted others to see. Their scars were only for them to admire, neither holding shame nor judgement as they took care of each other.

After cleaning off, Silva would put Azriel to bed in one of the spare bedrooms she had claimed for herself as Faith shut off any non-essential power for the night, before both she and Silva retired to their shared designated master bedroom.

That was where the quiet became more prominent.

It wasn't so bad; sometimes one or both of them would be able to drift off. Other times, sleep would evade them, and they just enjoyed each others company, sharing stories and jokes, their voices barely above a whisper. Often they'd talk about the plans for the next day, perhaps wonder about the future... or even confess their own fears, quelling doubts. A peaceful quiet.

There were few nights when these fears took form as nightmares, interrupting their rests. Such nights were spent comforting the other in an understanding silence, few words exchanged while they found warmth in each other's arms. A comforting quiet.

But those night terrors were becoming far and few as the months passed, and Silva found herself cherishing the quiet as much as she did the time spent with her little family.

Though months passed, there was a slight change from the routine, one night where Silva rediscovered a quiet she hadn't experienced in a long while, and would revisit the following weeks.

Although sexual intimacy wasn't a first for either Silva or Faith, after the Collapse, they prioritized the ensured function of the bunker, recovering from their own physical and mental wounds and Azriel's well-being over their passion. It was the practical thing to do in that situation.

However, so much time had passed since the Collapse had occurred, and though the intimacy they did share was cherished and fulfilling, there was a familiar desire that burned patiently; the want to be connected, the need to be closer, to make the other sing with pleasure, and to share their love and affection through one of the few ways they could.

After Silva tucked Azriel in for the night, she had returned to the master bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to the sight of Faith awaiting her by the foot of their bed.

Silva shared a soft smile with her amor, making her way over to Faith to give a nightly embrace and kiss before bed.

Faith had stopped Silva with a hand on her chest, green eyes looking deeply into grey as the former herald tried to put her desires into words.

"I want you," she said softly, a noticeable shade of light pink across her face with eyes full of a need that stole Silva's breath away, "Tonight. I want you, and I want to make you feel good."

Silva felt a burst of exhilaration invade her body, her nerves lightened up with renewed enthusiasm. The feeling only increased when Faith delicately held one of Silva's hands and brought it to her soft lips.

The kisses she pressed down onto the faded scarred tissue sent tingling signals throughout Silva's body, a pleased sigh escaping her lips as her cheeks darkened into a blush. Faith gauged Silva's reaction, her gaze anticipating her answer and yet pleading all the same, lips brushing against her sensitive hand.

Silva responded with a loving smile, using her spare hand to cup Faith's face, fingers caressing the skin like light kisses as she brought her own face closer.

"Si," Silva had acceded, connecting their lips, feeling the thrum of Faith's enthused hum. When breaking off the kiss, the former deputy stated, "Under one condition."

Faith visibly wet her lips, tilting her head into Silva's palm as she asked, barely above a whisper, "And what would that be?"

Silva smirked, and Faith waited with bated breath on Silva's response (but if she hadn't been so focused on Silva's answer, she'd notice beloved's grey eyes shined with a flicker of silver), bringing her chapped lips to ghost along Faith's ear, and purred, "I'll make you feel bliss first."

Faith broke into a grin, and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck as both of their desires heightened, lips caught in a dance before Silva took the lead.

While their tongues communed and tasted one another, Silva's hands wandered, brushing over Faith's dress and squeezing at certain areas to bring out those small noises she never gets to hear in any other moment.

She settled both her wandering hands at Faith's hip and culo respectively, giving a squeeze on both that elicited a surprised yelp from her amor, though a giggle soon followed after.

Silva retracted from the kiss as her hands reached the hem of Faith's dress, "Let's get this dress off, mi querida."

Faith only nodded as her hands joined Silva's to slip the dress off from over her head rather smoothly, freeing her perky breasts for only Silva's eyes to see. She pressed her hands onto the skin, how good and warm it felt under her touch. Her thumb grazed over a scar just under Faith's rib cage.

Her attention was deterred however by her amor's impatient fingers unbuttoning her shirt.

Silva followed suit, unbuttoning the rest of her dress shirt and shrugging it off. She reached for the strap of her bra behind her, but Faith ceased her struggle when she pressed her hands onto Silva's clothed breasts.

"Arms up, darling," Faith directed, and Silva saw the glimpse of the herald whose reputation commanded fear and respect from her foes. It sent an exhilarating shiver down the former deputy's body, feeling a twitch in her lower body as she followed her amor's orders.

Faith pulled the undergarment over her lover's head, tossing it away. Silva didn't bother to chide about the messiness, figuring it to be a issue she'll deal with tomorrow. In the mean time, she was too preoccupied with giving Faith's greedy hands access to feeling her swell chest up. She let Faith grope at her breasts, hands wandering all over her exposed upper half. Even in the darkness, Faith accurately pinpointed every faded scar there was on this portion of the Omar woman's body.

From her healed cuts and slashes, to the closed scarring from past bullet wounds, to her shoulders; the left harbored old burns, while the right was less clearer, though the texture of the skin was notably a shade lighter, if only slightly.

Silva hummed from the touches she received, massaging Faith's breasts in return. Faith gaped in pleasure, and Silva jumped at the opportunity to reconnect their lips, tongue inserted back in, this time to dominate.

Faith moaned into Silva's mouth, and the reverberation spurred Silva on. Her hands moved to behind Faith, she pulled the other woman's body against hers, their chests colliding. Faith's hands gripped at Silva's back, pushing herself against her lover to chase after the pleasure of grinding their breasts together.

Silva slowly lead Faith backwards to the bed, letting the foot of the bed buckle Faith's legs into sitting down.

Without hesitation, Faith spread her bare legs to give Silva a peek at the lacy white lingerie underwear, embroidered with a familiar pattern, that she had adorned for this occasion. Silva got the impression that her amor had been planning this for some time.

Silva wouldn't disappoint.

Though that pattern did look familiar-

Flowers. Of course, Silva noted in mild amusement.

Faith closed her legs together and dragged her underwear down, shimmying the flower-patterned lingerie down to her ankles, kicking them off to the floor. She opened her legs once more, displaying her nude, bare self for Silva's eyes to feast upon. The sight made Silva's crotch felt uncomfortably restrictive, but she restrained herself from taking her pants off and making love to Faith there and then.

Silva wanted to draw this out; she wanted Faith to feel the greatest heights of this high until she was fully satiated, as well as for herself too.

Caressing her amor's face, Silva's eyes lingered down to Faith's wet folds awaiting her, the light brown bundle of curling hairs layered at the top, and asked, "May I?"

Faith gave an eager and affirming nod, and Silva descended down to her knees until she was face to face with the younger woman's lower lips. Putting her amor's legs over her shoulders, Silva circled two fingers around her labia to stimulate more wetness and gather it onto her fingers, while her other hand's thumb gently brushed against her clit.

She heard Faith's breath hitch above, which made Silva temporarily halt, her eyes meeting green to wordlessly check on her pareja. Faith met her lover's gaze and returned an assuring nod. Silva took a breath and continued to tease her amor's slick pussy and clit, feeling a tug of pride within herself when she heard a soft airy sigh come from above.

Satisfied with the slickness, she inserted one finger inside, earning her a gasp and small moan from Faith. She massaged her index inside the warm insides before inserting a second finger to join the first, curling and gently twisting both as she proceeded to press a bit firmly on Faith's clit with her thumb.

Spurred on by the sounds of Faith's heavier breathing and soft moans, Silva gave a trail of kisses along both of her thighs, perhaps lightly sucking at the flesh to leave a mark or two where no one but both of them would see.

She carefully twisted her two slick-covered closed fingers to face her and opened them up in a V-shape, spreading her amor's vagina.

Silva leaned closer, breathing in her scent. The pungent tangy musk tinted with a hint of earthy sweetness to it. A floral scent really; not like the acrid sweetness of the Bliss though. That had long since been washed away.

Without wasting another moment, she pressed her tongue flat against Faith's vulva, licking it in a glide upwards until she reaches her clit.

Faith tasted like honey, with a hint of sourness that reminded Silva of yogurt. It was something surprising to discover; how different the taste was. She'd expected a metallic taste and bitterness not unlike coffee when she first went down on Faith, as she had remembered Irene's being, and the few women she had brief relations with holding a similar taste, but had been pleasantly unprepared for the flavor.

She continued to lap up the slickness, proceeding to explore with wide licks that swished around the folds of her amor's vulva, enjoying the sweet little noises she drew out and the feeling of Faith's legs shaking over her shoulders.

Silva hadn't expected Faith to cross her legs to pull her mouth closer, but the Omar woman held no complaints. She focused on flexing her tongue deeper inside, licking every nook and cranny.

Silva felt Faith's hand furl into her dark hair to keep the former deputy where she was, grinding herself against her lover's tongue. Silva hummed her appreciation into her amor's pussy, the vibrating sensation provoking a whimper out of Faith.

Feeling her lover's tongue retracting, Faith almost expressed her dissatisfaction with the lack of contact until Silva's lips enveloped around her swelling clit, lightly sucking as her tongue gently circled around it.

Faith choked out a cry as she felt Silva's two fingers re-enter to massage at her sensitive flesh. Lips parted, her moans didn't escape quietly, though it didn't discourage Silva from her relentless efforts to bring about Faith's high.

Silva heard Faith murmur out words incoherently yet consistently (though that may be due to the thighs squeezed around her head canceling out most noises), though was unable to inquire about it as she felt Faith's legs tense around her.

She had enough time to glance her eyes up to see Faith slightly arch her back before she felt the inner walls of her vagina constrict and spasm.

Silva had half-a-mind to have her mouth open when fluid squirted at her face. She lapped up the sweet sticky fluids as Faith rode her high out.

Leaving soft rewarding kisses around her amor's sensitive flesh and thighs, Silva began crawling up to trail her kisses along Faith's waist and stomach. She peppered her breasts, collarbone and neck with special attention, sucking on the skin to leave little marks.

She kissed along her jaw, face and settled on her lips. Face to face, Silva admired the flushed yet blissful expression that resided on her amor.

Breathing returning to a regular intake, Faith opened her green eyes to gaze into Silva's adoring ones.

"You look so beautiful right now amor," Silva complimented, lightly tucking a loose hair behind Faith's ear.

The Seed woman licked her lips, the smile on her face joined by a light blush from the praise. And though Silva meant what she said, she still had the need to confirm.

"Was that good for you, mi querida?" Silva asked softly, searching for any hint of potential discomfort from the young woman below her. Faith blinked at Silva, maybe touched by the concern, maybe in bafflement at the question. Though she proceeded to bring her head up to rest against Silva's own.

"It was wonderful. You ate me out so well my sweetheart," Faith assured with a pleased sigh. She proceeded to bring her lips to the shell of Silva's ear and whisper, "Now why don't you take those pants off? I can't be the only one naked here."

Silva gave an affirmative nod and obliged to Faith's request. Scooting to the side of bed, she pulled down her loose night pants, kicking them off at her ankles. She went to remove her boxers next, but Faith slipped up behind with wandering and electrifying hands that danced across her front.

Faith peppered light kisses along her neck, and softer ones to her old burn scars, which Silva appreciated. One stray hand palmed over the bulge throbbing against her boxers, massaging the member, earning a shameless moan from Silva.

"You're so good to me, Silva. Always accommodating. Putting my needs before yours," Faith revered warmly, massaging the stretching bulge that began to tent up at her boxers, eliciting a low groan from Silva, while Faith stated, "You're so full of love. And I'm happy to be someone you share it with. Which is why I want to make tonight special for you. To give my own love back to you, in the most intimate act together."

Silva bit at her bottom lip as she felt herself get harder at Faith's words, the kind and adoring words flustering the woman. She felt Faith reach into her boxers to pull out her erect cock. Freed from its confines, Silva didn't try to suppress the moan that rose in her throat when her amor curled one hand at the base and began to pump.

Precum leaked from the tip, and Faith brushed a thumb over it, spreading the slickness around the head. She reached down to gently massage at her scrotum to further tease her lover, receiving a choked yelp that morphed pleased groan. Satisfied with her work, Faith tugged at the boxers, with Silva pulling it down the rest of the way.

"Now for what I promised," Faith purred sultry, intertwining her hand with Silva, leading the compliant woman to crawl further onto the queen bed with her.

With both now bare and their hearts beating with a thrill, Faith took initiative, placing a halting hand onto Silva's chest to halt her approach and lightly push her down backwards.

"Can you sit for me?" Faith requested, flashing sweet honest pearls at her, and Silva nodded affirmatively as she followed suit, sitting down with her legs splayed out, her cock proudly pointed up as Silva's eyes traced ever bit of Faith's body.

She swallowed on nothing, wishing she could count the stars to mark a number down of how much she had been so unbelievably lucky to have not only meeting Faith, but get to be with her. And to keep her and Azriel safe, a small relieved voice spoke up, though it didn't last, You never were able to do that with anyone else.

Silva almost frowned at the thought, and briefly closed her eyes. What happened wasn't my fault. I did all I could in those moments, she reminded herself, defending against the guilt, just as Faith coached her.

She opened her eyes when she felt Faith's hands grasp onto her shoulders, her legs at both sides of her hips. Her wet entrance hovering above Silva's leaking head, though Faith paused as she cupped Silva's face into her hands, the next words she spoke sending a spike of pleasure through her veins, "I want you inside me."

Heart fluttering at the proclamation, Silva wanted nothing more than to obey, to be inside her amada and feel how she clenched around her, to murmur little praises into her skin as she just enjoyed having her amor in her arms. However, through the haze of love and lust, she had a realization, "I don't have condoms. I don't think there are any down here."

"Nor birth control," Faith informed her, green eyes gazing down, and Silva wanted to kick herself for not noticing when she did stock checks, "I checked the infirmary; it just wasn't included amongst the stock."

Silva could take a guess why. The infirmary had been an additional room inserted by Kamski himself without her permission. Though she was grateful now for his foresight, she felt an annoyance towards Kamski's paranoia overstocking the infirmary with supplies for illness, injury, surgery and even birth delivery, but was flippant about her chances of finding a new partner that he was he convinced her contraceptives wouldn't be necessary. By Jannah, why did I listen to him?

She brought a hand over one of Faith's own which still had her face cupped, thumb brushing at the knuckles. While Silva certainly wasn't against the idea of unprotected sex, especially if Faith gave her consent, under normal circumstances there would be a world with safety nets to fall back on if they decided to risk it.

However, they were stuck in a bunker, while luckily stocked for more than three people with food, medicine and other resources, it was without the contraceptives to avoid the high-risk results of the act.

She would love nothing more than to make love to Faith, to be inside her, to join her on the brink of their own bliss and just release. However, she knew of Faith's reservations, not to the act itself, but the potential consequences of said act.

Instead, she suggested, "If you really want to do this, I can try the pulling out, which does comes with risk. But we don't have to, we can do something else..."

Silva quieted down when Faith pressed a finger to her lips, shushing wordlessly. Faith smacked her lips together as she gazed at Silva with sincere affection.

"I appreciate that you're thinking of me, but there's no need to fret, my lotus flower," Faith said with a fond smile, running a hand through Silva's long dark hair, her green eyes full of a devotion Silva's doesn't believe she's seen on her before, not even with Joseph, not this intense and self-assured.

"But I made my mind up about this weeks ago," Faith informed her lover, an adoring smile blessing her face, "I want to feel you. And more importantly, I want you to feel good. I know you personally dislike the condoms. Not only that, but I know you'd rather not pull out. And yet you do those... all for me. And I'm flattered. Which is why tonight, I wanted to do this for you. No contraceptives... even if they ideally should have been optional... and no pulling out either. And whatever comes after this... I'm okay with it."

Silva blinked, not expecting this from Faith. Although she wanted nothing more to accept her words at face value, she still had to make sure, "What about what you told me? I thought you didn't want to risk-"

"I know what I had said. It was something I took time to think about too," Faith acknowledged, but her tone changed to something more impassioned, "But... my time spent with you and Azriel has made me reconsider. I know you. I trust you. Of all the people I was lucky to fall for, I'm glad it's with you. Because you won't abandon me. You'll be with me, through it all."

Faith's hands glided down to behind Silva's head and neck, bringing her beloved's face closer to her chest, adjusting Silva so her ear was to the skin.

"You hear that?" Faith asked above, her heartbeat thumping in a swift measured pace, and Silva only nodded, still a little lost until her amor explained, "That's my excitement at the thought of us giving in for tonight. Of us quivering and trembling in ecstasy, on the toe-curling edge until I milk you dry. That's what I want, but most importantly, I know that's what you want to do."

Silva felt herself burning up; from her head being in Faith's bosom? The lewd description she'd never expect Faith to use (Had she rubbed off on her somehow? The Drubmans and Sharky? Or had she always had this side of her? came the discord of thoughts) until this occasion? Or the admission that she not only knew of Silva's concealed desires, but wishes for her to act on them too?? Perhaps it was a combination, but Silva wasn't entirely sure.

Silva lifted her face to look into Faith's unabashed green eyes, finding no hint of doubt in those beautiful orbs.

"I want this. You want this. And we won't be unprepared," Faith assured, nuzzling her head into the nook of Silva's neck, hands residing at her back, "We have an abundance of supplies with everything needed for a full-term pregnancy, and the infirmary is ridiculously prepared with instructions and instruments ready for when the day comes. I know this is selfish... but I want to make something beautiful with you. To carry the culmination of our love within me. No more holding yourself back... take a leap, love. Put yourself first for once."

Silva chewed at her bottom lip as she felt her cock grow stiffer at the idea of succumbing to her base desires, and to join Faith through a union of their raw bodies, rutting into the warmth of Faith's inner walls until she released herself into her amada's womb, until she was sure Faith was pregnant.

Faith got her attention with a small kiss on the lips, green eyes staring straight into Silva's souls as she said her next words with utmost seriousness.

"I know how I sound, saying all these things to you, but here and now, I want you to understand that ultimately... it's your call, my lotus flower. If you don't want to risk it, I'll respect your decision. You're not obligated to do this, not even for me. I can do something else to have you reach your own high if you'd prefer," Faith offered, one hand reaching down to Silva's hard cock, stroking at the shaft, earning a pleased trill, "If you want to proceed, you already know I'm all for it. If you don't, I'll be happy with whatever decision you make. It's up to you."

Silva was grateful that Faith was willing to wait for her consent. She took the opportunity to think about it. She found Faith's points to be valid; they had an infirmary with information and instruments at the ready, the bunker was well-supplied, Silva has the experience to take care of Faith and their not-yet conceived child, she knows Azriel would be thrilled for a sibling and she had Faith's approval. Hell, she wanted to do it.

I want to do it, Silva realized, an anxious energy buzzing within her, I want to have a child with her.

Silva met Faith's gaze once more. Her bright grey eyes scanned Faith's green, and her hands moved up to rest on her amor's waist as she said, "I want to do it."

Faith's eyes blew open, delight filling her face, "Really? You mean it?"

Silva gave Faith a smirk that sent a shiver of exhilaration up the other woman's spine, "Si. Now mi amor, how do you like the sound of me cumming into you tonight?"

Faith's only response was a resounding, "Yes."

With a gentle tap from Silva, Faith proceeded to lower herself until her entrance met Silva's tip, grinding their sex together, the sensation causing Silva to gasp agape while Faith husked out a wanton groan.

Silva couldn't deny her own heart's elation at the feeling of Faith's slickness making contact with her own precum, mixing and leaking down her shaft.

Faith sunk until she enveloped the head of Silva's cock. The former deputy groaned at the sensation of Faith adjusting to her, her walls stretching and clenching around her. Faith masked her own moan as a pleased hum, hand bringing Silva's head to her collarbone.

Silva planted more kisses and small bites to decorate her skin as she delicately maneuvered Faith past her cock's head and down the shaft. Her amada rocked tenderly, rasping out breathy, needy moans as Silva's cock stretched her pussy.

Both women's breath hitched when Faith reached the base of Silva's cock, the latter once again adjusting to the former. For Faith, it felt warmer, and she felt fuller with Silva inside compared to when she wore the condom. Silva could feel her amor's slickness and heat, how she pulsed within her, how wonderful it felt to have Faith's walls clenched around Silva. It felt right.

Both held each other close, until Silva's knees rose up until they were behind Faith's back. She grabbed hold of her amor's legs, gaze bor into her green orbs, a determined look not unlike what Faith saw during the Reaping gracing Silva's features.

"Are you ready?" Silva asked one last time, giving Faith the chance to back out. Faith gave a thrilled, "Yes", her green eyes begging for more. Silva proceeded to ask, "You remember what word to use if things get too much for you?"

Faith nodded once more, recounting, "Tulip."

Silva gave a confirming nod, "That's right. Buena chica. Now stretch out your legs and lay back for me, mi amor."

Faith did as instructed, stretching her legs out and, with Silva's guidance, she locked them around Silva's waist. Faith proceeded to lean back onto the support of Silva's thighs.

Silva hooked one hand under Faith's culo, giving it a teasing squeeze as she leaned forward to bring her other arm around Faith's back. The former herald hooked one hand at the nape of Silva's neck while her other gave herself some support from behind, grasping onto Silva's leg to anchor herself.

She gave Silva an affirming nod to go ahead, and Silva tested the waters with a small thrust with a rock of her hips. Faith gasped out a lewd noise, and with another thrust, she let out a pleased hum at the contact, and as Silva thrust again and again at a steady pace, Faith began to pant out long, wanton moans while Silva breathed out grunts and husked out her own impassioned moans.

Silva continued to thrust into Faith as her amada continued meeting her thrusts with enthusiastic rocks, the wet sound of skin slapping against each other all that filled the room.

"You feel so good," Silva murmured in a drawl, and as she rocked her hips up into Faith's slick velvet walls, she let out a surprising growl, "Mierda, you're coño's perfect for me, Faith. I need to fill you up... I need to get you pregnant."

Faith let out an enthused titter, her gut recoiling with warmth like the hammer of a gun, and she teased, "Yeah? Is that what you're going to do, my lotus flower? Rut into my bare, unprotected pussy raw until you cum? Spill all your seed into my empty womb until I'm all nice and full? That's fucking hot. You're so sexy whenever you speak your mind. Gets me really wet."

Faith gasped as she felt Silva's thrusts quicken in pace, causing her body to rock from the jerky movement. Though Faith was not displeased by the change as her content moans and her sweet gaping features indicated.

Images flashed within Silva's mind while her sharp eyes lingered on Faith; the flat of her stomach swollen with life for Silva to cherish both with the hold of one hand. Her bouncing breasts full of milk, perhaps more swell and more sensitive than before. Silva was also fascinated by what Faith's stretch marks would look like, during and after the pregnancy, the beautiful markings long-lasting evidence of their joyous union. She remembered only briefly being able to admire Irene's post-birth marks a few days after Persephone was born.

Silva could feel herself reaching her end, she knew in the way her breathing grew strained, and her cock became stiffer and hotter. It was a familiar sensation, but here it was special, as nothing was stopping her from filling Faith up fully now.

"Faith, look at me, querida," Silva drew Faith's green eyes to retain direct contact with her grey, "That's good, mi amor. I'm glad to see your beautiful face. This is a moment in our bond I want to last. I'm close. I'm so close now. I'm going to cum inside you. And I'm going to get you pregnant. I want to hear you tell me you want it. I need to hear it."

So close to coming undone, Faith refrained from breaking their shared contact as she husked out, "I want this. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to be full with your seed. I want to be pregnant with your child. I want all of you, Silva."

Silva felt herself tighten and her resolve to hold on break. With little strength, she wrapped her arms around Faith as her amada tightened her legs around Silva's waist, both pulled their sweaty bodies close to each other. Both clung to one another as the only lifeline, as Silva gave one last rock of her hips and their sexes spasm.

Faith's walls constricted and clamped around her cock in a creamy coat and milk up all that she unloaded inside. Faith wailed out a moan while Silva shouted in ecstasy. She gave a sparse few weaker thrusts, and felt Faith's walls throb followed by her amor cumming once more.

Both refrained from separating, catching their breaths within each other's arms, fingers playing with hair, breasts pressed against each other from each heave of their chests, basking in each other's mind-buzzing afterglow.

The embrace lasted until Silva lightly pressed a kiss on Faith's soft lips before she removed herself out of Faith, her member deflating and spent for the night. She laid Faith down on the blanket of the bed, who was recovering from the intense pleasure she experienced twice. With limbs still interlocked, she laid beside Faith's prone form.

"Thank you," Silva told Faith, the latter humming in question, dreariness weighing on her half-lidded eyes, so Silva elaborated, "For this. For letting me hold you, and kiss you, and taste you, and... make love. You made me feel so good. Tonight was just perfect."

Faith giggled, green eyes gazing into Silva's grey with adoration, "Of course, honey. You did amazingly too. I noticed you had a lot more enthused determination. Not that you hadn't before but... there was a more primal feel. I liked it."

Silva felt her face heat up from Faith's appraisal, feeling her cock twitch. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her amor; Faith bit at her bottom lip as she commented, "And with our new goal, we'll be doing this again for the next few nights, I'd hope."

Silva felt an excitement burn at the thought of doing this again, though it reminded her of some things she should do to help.

"I'll need to go get a new blanket from the linen cupboard since..." Silva trailed off as she looked at the damp spot, "...yeah. But in the meantime, we should have your pelvis raised a little higher to increase the chances of conception."

Silva couldn't recall where she gained that information from; whether it had been something Kamski had somehow brought up in conversation for whatever reason or something she had learned while reading for any information from the old medical textbooks they could scavenge to help Irene during her pregnancy with her firstborn.

Regardless, Silva grasped a pillow and placed it underneath Faith's lower back, to raise her hips slightly above. Satisfied, Silva asked, "While I'm out, is there anything you need? Snacks? Water? A cloth to clean up?"

Faith shook her head, but made a small grunt as she tried to clear her coarse throat, "Water, please."

Silva gave a smile, caressing her amada's face before getting off the bed, "I'll be back in a jiff, mi amor."

Silva peeked out of the room, searching for any signs of the familiar orange-streak across the dark hair of her hija, hoping she was still asleep in her bed and not awoken by the noise, even if their rooms were fairly dense.

Spotting no signs of her fellow night owl, Silva exited the room, and made her way to the linen cupboard for the new blanket, and then dashed to the kitchen to get Faith's water.

With the glass filled and blanket over her shoulder, she made haste back to the master bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way back to Faith back on the bed. She placed the blanket down by the foot of the bed while taking the chance to admire her nude form. Though she noticed how Faith's hand was placed below her stomach, lost in thought.

Silva got onto the bed with a creak, breaking her amor's attention train of though and bringing her attention back to her.

Offering a smile, Silva didn't immediately inquire, instead tapping the glass of water, which earned her a soft gaze of appreciation.

She helped Faith lean up from the bed, and passed the glass of water to her. Once her amor's throat was satisfied, Silva had Faith temporarily hop off the bed so she could remove the ruined blanket (which she placed by the door for tomorrow) and laid down the newer, softer blanket.

Once the bed was ready, both Silva and Faith crawled back onto the bed, huddling close. Neither put back on their nightwear.

Silva brushed her fingers through Faith's light brown hair with enthusiasm and adoration in her heart. Faith snuggled into the crook of her neck, one finger tracing aimlessly at Silva's back.

"Are you alright, amor?" Silva asked softly, concern rearing its head once more, though she had a fraction of an idea of what Faith would be thinking about.

Faith glanced her green eyes up at her, briefly holding contact before she nodded.

"Just thinking?" Silva pried gently, observing how her face made those little quirks, subtle twitches, halting furrows and the way her lips open partially before closing again.

Faith responded with a small and affirming hum. The vibration's contact against her skin, although short, eased her hammering heart.

"Want to talk about it?" She finally asked, swallowing any remaining nerves as she discerned Faith's expression towards the question. Does she have any regrets? came the question she was worried for the answer of.

Faith hadn't replied immediately, stewing in the silence as she gathered her words, and said, "I'm just... coming to terms with this. Wondering... maybe a little worried. I've made quite the spontaneous decision, no different than what I've done before."

From the top of her head, Silva could only recall three that she could be referring to; leaving home with Tracey, joining Eden's Gate and helping Silva and Azriel in their goals.

"Are you having... regrets?" Silva asked hesitantly, but knew it was important.

She was a little surprised when Faith snorted incredulously at it.

"No... not that at all. It's a choice I'm not backing down from," she answered fully looking up to her, bringing one hand to cup the side of Silva's face with tender affection, slowly nuzzling their foreheads together, "I'm just a little nervous is all. This is a new and rather big step I would never have considered in my life before meeting you and Azriel. But it is something I want to experience, as long as you're with me."

Relief flooded Silva's mind, washing away any lingering presence of the ugly guilt that tried to form.

"Besides, I liked tonight as much as you did. And I loved how you were too," Faith said as she "walked" two fingers all the way up Silva's chest to her lips, seductively brushing both over her lover's bottom lip as she leaned forward with a whisper, "And I'd hope to see more of that side of you last a few rounds in the night to come."

Silva joined her lips with her amor's, an unbridled smile curving up once again. I've been doing that a lot more recently, she noted, in spite of the sorrow she still feels for the loss of the world above.

Though that's not something she'd focus on as of now. She had better priorities she needed to attend to.

Disconnecting their lips, Silva replied, "I'll let you hold me to those words. In the meantime... want to just snuggle until sleep takes us?"

"Yeah," Faith snickered, eyes drooping lower as she cuddled closer into Silva, "I won't refuse such an offer like that."

Silva wrapped her arms further around Faith, as she just cherished this moment of holding onto her amada diente de león.

Faith dozed off first, and though Silva was not far behind her, within the dark of their room, she whispered into Faith's hair, "We're going to be okay. I promise, mi amor."

With nothing else to say until tomorrow, she let out a content sigh as she dragged the soft blanket over their exposed bodies, and sunk into Faith's slumbering embrace. Finally finding a quiet to look forward to.

[A/n] Finally it's over. I can move on to the tag stuff I've missed.

[Skit #1: Faith: "How might Azriel take the news of a possible new sibling?" Silva: "I wouldn't worry about it. She'd probably be more thrilled at finally being taller than someone for once."]

[Skit #2: Kamski: "Alright I've installed a functioning infirmary into your doomsday bunker in the scenario we'd have to bunk together during a disaster." Silva: "...Not thrilled but ok." Kamski: "It's prepared for injuries, illnesses, surgeries and any pregnancies in the unlikely case we have others bunk with us." Silva: "That sounds good and all, but what about contraceptives?" Kamski: "Don't be ridiculous Silva... no one's stupid enough to fuck in a bunker during a disaster and neither of us are getting lucky enought to change our single status any time soon." Silva: "Hurtful but sounds legit." Years later... Silva: "Once I die, Kamski when I get my hands on you, you motherfu-"]